


The Demons From Our Past

by ByTheDawn



Series: Beyond Neverland [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Drama, F/F, Romance, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once returned from Neverland, things are not looking up for Regina Mills. Not only has she not gotten the credit she deserves for saving Henry, she is dealing with Emma who has managed to get it into her head that their previous couplings and joined rescue effort somehow meant there could be more to their relationship. Regina knows it is impossible, because the demons from her past haunt her relentlessly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Whispers

Warm hands and sharp nails found the sensitive skin on her lower back, and Emma gasped against a supple neck. Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of Regina’s slacks and then the zipper, before she forced her hand in undergarments she never even saw. The next gasp didn’t belong to her but Regina’s prone form as she leaned back further into the backseat of her expensive car, inviting Emma to explore further—deeper—as her head fell back and her lips parted. 

Regina looked at her best when her lipstick was smeared over her face, when her eyes were screwed shut, and when her expensive blouse hung uselessly over her shoulders, her bra pushed up over her breasts to give Emma access to the bounty previously hidden. But Regina sounded best when she came for her.

In the awkward position, a single digit forcefully inserted and the pressure of the mouse of her thumb was the best Emma could do to stimulate Regina, but it was enough. Regina rode her finger like a lifeline while Emma tried not to notice how her legs were fully asleep and her back was cramping up, kneeled as she was on the floor mats of Regina’s town car. Golden curls fell onto Regina’s lightly tinted skin as she took a pebbled nipple back into her mouth. 

Regina only cursed when she was close to orgasm, and by the way Regina swore like a sailor on shore leave as Emma bit down a little past gently, Regina was close. Strong hands slid up to wrap in her hair and push her harder into Regina’s chest. She took a mouth full of the supple flesh and moaned around it when Regina’s nails dug into her scalp. Increasing the thrusts of her hand, Regina groaned menacingly and Emma sucked harder on the skin in her mouth.

“Fuck, Miss Swan…” Regina panted through her set jaw—an encouragement born out of annoyance for still tethering on the edge. “Get me off already.” She added and Emma rolled her eyes, knowing full well Regina enjoyed the encounter far more than she was letting on. After all, this wasn’t the first time they had found themselves in this, or a similar, position—always in the back of a car, or in Regina’s office, or against the iron bars of a police holding cell. And this time, it wasn’t even Emma who had taken the first step—this time it was Regina who had called her with instructions on when and where to meet her.

The yellow bug sat forlornly next to Regina’s demure vehicle, completely forgotten after a mind shattering orgasm produced by Regina’s skilled tongue. They were in the middle of nowhere, Maine, somewhere in the forest so far from Emma’s normal route that she had shown up ten minutes late, infuriating the ex-Mayor to such a degree that Emma’s orgasm had taken place on the hood of the car itself, leaving Emma’s skin cold to the touch, but her insides burning. The car was, at least, warm—if not a little cramped for a spacious vehicle. 

Emma switched to Regina’s other breast as she increased the speed of her thrusts inside the other woman and was surprised by the force with which her head was yanked up so Regina could kiss her. They didn’t kiss much; Emma liked to, but Regina rarely allowed her, preferring the more detached sexual intercourse over the more intimate crushing of lips. So when Regina did allow her to kiss her, Emma went for it full force, thrusting her tongue inside Regina’s mouth and shuddering at the moan that her actions provoked. Her head buzzed as Regina’s body flexed against her prone form, kneeling between her legs. She could do this forever, Emma realized, but shook the thought off. 

These sessions were under Regina’s control, and tended to take place only when one of them had nearly died, or after a heated argument—either between them, or just for one of them. The first time it happened was after the dreaded ‘apple tree’-incident, when Regina ran after her and pressed her against the side of the house. The eyes of the Mayor had been on fire, and for a second, Emma was afraid the forearm against her throat would crush her windpipe, but then Regina’s mouth was on hers and Emma gave into delicious temptation. She had thought it was a ploy to get her to leave, or to discredit her in front of Henry, but she had never heard about it again. Instead, it happened again, and again, and while the frequency of these visits was increasing, Regina always brushed them off, and Regina never called her ‘Emma’.

“Emma…” Regina gasped as her orgasm ripped through her, her lips mere inches from Emma’s, making the sound undeniably true. Emma’s brain froze as her body’s actions continued, roughly thrusting inside the Queen through her orgasm, and crashing their mouths together again as if Emma could trace the sound. Regina’s hands remained in her hair as she convulsed, and then as she eventually stilled. Their kisses grew less frantic—more languid—as Regina came down and Emma stole the precious moment, knowing full well that at any time, Regina would push her away, call her ‘Miss Swan’ again, and send her on her way without another word.

It didn’t take long—but perhaps a moment longer, Emma told herself hopefully—before Regina did, indeed, release her, her body no longer molding to Emma’s, but going rigid in all the wrong ways. 

“Miss Swan, you are quite heavy, and this position is awkward enough without you using me as a mattress,” Regina sassed in her usual straight-for-the-jugular-approach. Emma sighed and lifted herself off of Regina, who brought her leg down from the back of the front passenger seat, and pulled her other leg in from the couch as soon as there was enough room to do so. She pulled down her bra, buttoned her shirt, and ran a hand through her dark hair before addressing Emma again, who had found a place on the back seat, trying to massage the tingling from her jeans-clad legs.

“Are you still here, Miss Swan?” She asked, her slowly reconstructing armor settling heavily around her. Emma sighed irritably and shook her head. She didn’t need this, not while her body was still buzzing from her orgasm, her mouth still tasted like Regina, and all she could hear was her birth name rolling off of perfect lips, the word repeating in her ear again and again as if on a loop. Regina had called her ‘Emma’ as she came, had called out her name and not just some random swear word as she shuddered. Emma bit the inside of her lower lip and slid her protesting body from the back of the car, slamming the door without looking back. She zipped up her pants.

“See you later, Regina.” Emma greeted venomously and got in her bug. She turned the key in the ignition and sped off, fully aware she would have to pull over soon to fix the mess Regina’s lipstick had left on her face, but too pissed off, proud, and confused to do it with Regina five feet away. Emma sighed, running a hand through her hair to restore some semblance of decency to it. She couldn’t keep doing this, she realized. Not like this.


	2. The Die Is Cast

It had been four frustrating days since their last rendezvous, and Emma was climbing the walls. Her confusion had turned to anger, and back to confusion, before transmuting into fear, hope, and eventually steely determination. If she wanted to keep her sanity through the mood swings of the ex-Mayor, she was going to have to change the rules of the game. Because there were rules, clear ones. For one, it was only about sex. Regina tended to call the shots. No rain checks—if one of them got off, the other got off as well. No one could know. No one could hear. No one could see. No talking, unless it was in the heat of the moment. There were others, but those were the most important ones, Emma had come to realize. Well, she was going to change them. ‘Emma’ still played in her ear at every inopportune moment, and it was driving her nuts. Had Regina kept their little liaisons impersonal by sticking to the roles they had cast themselves (and the other) in, Emma would have been fine; frustrated but fine. As it was now, Emma found herself thinking about the fallen Mayor and Queen during any waking moment that wasn’t about life and death, or food.

Emma had realized long ago that she was a willing participant in these little appointments of theirs, and that the sex was better than any she’d had in her life. Regina was an attentive and passionate lover, and a welcoming party in the reverse. She was open and free with her body, and welcoming to Emma’s exploration of it in these stolen moments. Yet, at any other time, Regina’s walls were up higher than ever. And if Emma had imagined sleeping with the Mayor (when she still held the title) would improve their business relationship, she had been sorely mistaking. Every non-sexual encounter with the then-Mayor—about Henry, about work, about Storybrook in general—had turned into another fight for the record books. Graham’s predicament should have taught Emma that. Even now, with Regina reduced to ‘housewife’-status, the woman couldn’t be nice to her to save her life—even though it was clear their relationship had changed considerably. Saving Henry, beating Neverland… they were more powerful now, they had come to rely on each other, and yet—every exchange was still filled with daggers and formality.

Once they had gotten back from Neverland, her parents had downplayed Regina’s importance and made themselves, Emma, Neal and even bloody Hook out as the heroes. Even Gold got to share in the victory. Regina got cursory thanks and then everyone was reminded that Regina ripped out the heart of a young boy, neglecting to mention that Emma had wholeheartedly agreed with the exchange. Suffice to say, Regina was still fully in the dog house where the entire town of Storybrooke was concerned.

Now, a month had passed and Emma had grown fed up enough with her parents’ indoctrination of her son that she had returned Henry to Regina once he was recovered enough from his ordeal. Snow had been shocked, but Emma was adamant, saying she trusted Regina to look after Henry and that after what she did, she deserved to. Henry was their son—of that Regina and Emma were in complete agreement after Neverland—and that meant that above all, Henry should get to spend time with both his moms. She had also made sure that Henry was completely aware of the good Regina had done in getting him back, and that she loved him very, very, much. And Henry loved her—especially with all the effort Regina had put in trying to change her life for the better.

While Snow would never be Regina’s favorite person, the hate ran decidedly the other way these days; Regina tolerated Snow’s presence in Henry’s life—and in her own life—and from what Emma could tell, she had dropped her desire for murder of her pixie stepdaughter. How true that was would have to be determined, but for now, Regina kept to herself and seemed to come alive only when Henry was around, and in the minutes she and Emma were together. Snow, on the other hand, remained a toxic influence in her and her son's life when it came to Regina. 

Groaning, Emma stood from her desk at the sheriff’s office—a station she had resumed to keep after she returned from Neverland—and checked the clock. She had at least forty-five minutes before Henry would arrive at Regina’s mansion from school. Making a decision, she grabbed the keys to her police car, her phone, and her gun, and walked out of the station. It was a slow day anyway.

By the time she arrived at the mansion, twenty-five minutes had passed—mostly because Emma had stopped at Granny’s to get a cup of coffee and stall for time. Getting out of the car, she threw the door shut and walked up the perfectly kept pathway to the front door, on which she knocked roughly. It took a few moments before the sound of heels on marble arrived at her ears and Emma took a small step forwards when the door opened, reaching out to push the door open further and step in.

Regina’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitted together in annoyance, but she closed the door behind the blonde sheriff anyway, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Is there something I can do for you, Miss Swan? You are aware our son will be home any minute now?” she questioned pointedly. Emma, meanwhile, let her eyes slide down and back up over Regina’s perfect form, an action not lost on Regina. She wore a dress today, a black and white affair that must have cost a fortune. Her hair was perfect. Her heels were high and classy. Regina was in a good mood today, it seemed. 

“Nineteen minutes, at the earliest,” Emma spoke, her voice low in her throat, and invaded Regina’s space. She reached for the nape of Regina’s neck and hungrily pressed their mouths together as she forced the taller woman backwards against the wall. “Plenty of time.” She added and kissed the raven beauty again, slipping her tongue over Regina’s perfectly done-up lips this time. The dull taste of lipstick coated her tongue before being replaced with the taste of Regina—coffee, nicotine, and breath mints mixed with something deliciously Regina’s—as her tongue was granted access and Regina’s barriers came down. She clung to Emma in need, pushing at her faux-leather jacket but Emma refused to budge. 

She cupped Regina’s face between her hands and kissed her deeply again and again, before letting one of her hands slide lower to tease Regina’s breasts through the fabric. Regina moaned, and Emma gloated against her lips. She reveled in the feel, the smell, the taste of Regina, and squeezed kiss after kiss out of the encounter until Regina grew restless against her and Emma moved on, her left hand replacing her right on Regina’s breasts as her right slid lower to hike up the skirt and cup Regina’s hot sex in her palm. Regina’s head slammed back against the wall and Emma took the opportunity to suckle the pulse point at her neck—light enough not to leave a mark. Regina would kill her if she left a mark, orgasm or not. Her tongue then slid up a perfectly sculpted neck and—just because she could—she pulled Regina’s head to her for another kiss, temporarily leaving her breasts. Her other hand still massaged Regina’s core over her panties. 

As she broke the kiss, she took a second or two to breathe and then slid down Regina’s body, careful not to leave Regina’s lipstick everywhere. Once on her knees, she used two hands to help Regina step out of her heels and pulled down her panties and underwear. In record time, she had Regina against the wall, dress hiked up over her hips, and Emma’s mouth feasting on her sex. Emma wasted no time at all, and didn’t tease. While Regina shouted encouragements, she suckled Regina’s clit, raking her teeth over it as two fingers filled up the woman towering above her; the woman trying desperately to steady herself by wrapping two hands in Emma’s hair.

Regina’s orgasm came unexpectedly fast, even for Emma who had gotten quite skilled in reading the older woman’s body. This time, Regina only swore. Emma felt her heart sink a little, but the amount of fluids coating her hand and mouth were enough to make her feel better about the situation. After all, the dazed woman who allowed herself to be held as she came down from her high meant more to Emma than she cared to admit to anyone but herself after a minimum of half a bottle of Jack Daniels. Standing, Emma held her sullied hand away from Regina’s frame and used the other to comb Regina’s matted hair. She placed a tender kiss on Regina’s temple and marveled at the way Regina settled into the crook of her neck, hanging on for dear life. Emma’s heart rate spiraled out of control when she—again—heard her name slip from between bruised lips.

“Emma…”

This time it was spoken as a contented sigh, and Emma was fairly certain she was not supposed to have heard it. In response, she held Regina a moment longer and—as she found Regina stiffening again in realization of their position—she released her, stepping back once she knew the other woman wouldn’t tip over. Emma checked her watch.

“Time to go,” she said, not letting Regina get a dig in at her expense. Regina’s eyes found hers and for a moment, they were clouded with insecurity. If Emma left now, without an orgasm of her own, one of the rules would be broken. If one of the rules was broken… than all of them could be.

“Miss Swan, I—” Emma would have liked to see her try and finish that sentence in a way that did not include statements like ‘I can’t let you leave because you haven’t come yet, and we have an arrangement’, but she didn’t want to risk it. 

“No time,” Emma cut in—somewhat true, as Regina would certainly need a few moments to make herself presentable; she looked royally fucked at the moment, standing barefoot next to her heels, her dress half-heartedly pushed down, her hair and make-up a mess—“Henry will be here soon and I am on the clock.” She gathered her courage and steeled her resolve. “If you want to make it up to me… how about dinner tomorrow evening?” she suggested casually. “I could bring something from Granny’s.” she added and ran the back of her hand over her lips to take care of the worst of Regina’s lipstick on her.

As Emma reached for the handle of the door, Regina sprang to action, shaken out of her musings by the finality of the action. She must have taken either a moment to wrap her head around the turning of tables, or her schedule—which mostly consisted of Henry’s schedule, who had a sleep-over planned for tomorrow, which Emma knew—but she finally pushed herself away from the wall, took the handle of the door from Emma, and opened the door a little further, careful to hide her appearance from the outside world.

“Alright…” Regina rushed out along with the complete contents of her lungs, it seemed, because she had to inhale deeply once she did. Emma bit back a smirk and changed it into a smile. 

“Great. I’ll be here at seven.” She added and walked out, holding her hand up in a wave without turning back.

“Don’t be late, Miss Swan.” Regina’s restored voice cut through the silence between them like a dagger, but Emma’s shit-eating grin—hidden firmly from Regina—did not lessen. In fact, it only grew. That was the Queen Emma knew and metaphorically loved.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Your Majesty!” Emma called after her, still not looking back, and waited for the sound of a closing door to reach her ears. Once it did, Emma turned around and sent her shit-eating grin straight through the door before getting in her car and backing out of the driveway. She managed to drive maybe thirty seconds before pulling up to the curb and throwing the car in ‘park’. With her hands clenched into fists, raised to the ceiling of the cop car, Emma did a seated victory dance.


	3. Of Blood And Guts

The next twenty-eight hours were torture for Regina, who managed to smoke her way through nearly a full pack of the cigarettes she had sworn to herself she would stop smoking. It was a habit she had picked up during the curse and which she had given up in intervals. Yet, she always returned to the habit in times of stress. The last month had been nothing but stress, so it had been resumed upon the evening they had returned from Neverland and she was effectively shut out from the group and caring for Henry. 

Regina knew she would never really be part of the group—and she shouldn’t be—but she found herself shocked that she had thought Snow would give her the credit she was due. Of course, Snow hadn’t, and Regina had been a fool for thinking anything had changed in the many years she had known the woman. Saving her grandson had not been enough for Snow—in fact, it seemed as if, as time went by, Snow became more and more resentful towards Regina. Regina, who had been desperately trying to at least neutralized some of the damage she had done in her long years as Queen and Mayor.

Instead of angry, Regina just felt tired, and alone, and if she was really honest—something that only happened after two cigarettes and an apple cider in the chilly night air because she did not want to contaminate the house—it mostly made her feel worthless. Regina hated feeling worthless, as it brought with it insecurities she tended to overcompensate, a mechanism Emma took the brunt of, because there simply wasn’t anyone else to project her feelings upon. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—do it to Henry and very few other people talked to her. Especially after Snow White’s treacherous campaign about her actions in Neverland.

Regina put out the last cigarette she vowed she would have today and took the bud inside, disposing of it in the garbage before heading upstairs to bath and change. She had dropped Henry off at his sleep-over almost an hour ago, bearing the shocked expression of the boy’s father—one of Cindrella’s damn mice—and his stumbling words as he was suddenly confronted with the Evil Queen on his doorstep. For a second, she thought about setting his house on fire to show him what an Evil Queen looked like, but she wouldn’t. Not anymore. Instead, she wished the mousy man a good evening, kissed her son goodbye, and left to smoke away her misery in a different manner.

As she turned on the water for a bath, her thoughts turned to Emma once more. Emma, who was turning more and more into a Savior every day—as long as Regina kept teaching the blonde her tricks and steering her in the right direction. Regina pulled the black turtleneck sweater Emma had graciously returned to her once they had gotten back from Neverland over her head. Regina had left it at Emma’s place after an impromptu visit and upon Snow’s unplanned return to the home she shared with her husband and daughter, she had left it in her hurry to saunter out of the house like nothing ever happened. Snow had packed it for Emma before leaving, and so the two had found themselves remembered of their near-discovery for a good few days while on the island… and the events leading up to it. As they had been constantly surrounded by other people, and eternally fearful for Henry’s life, that was the closest they had gotten to sex the entire trip.

Sex with Emma was… electrifying. It made Regina feel alive. Wanted. Worthy. The Savior’s hands on her felt like maybe she could be saved as well—like she wasn’t rotten to the core, her heart not as black as it appeared. Not as black as she was working very hard to make her lungs. She dropped the sweater into the hamper and closed the lid with a sigh. Unfortunately, her heart was as black as it appeared. Too much had happened for Regina to get the happy ending she had been after all these years, and it was slowly dawning on her that as much as she would like to blame Snow White, or Cora, or even Tinkerbell… most of the damage to her heart and life, she had caused herself.

She stepped out of her heels and slacks, and added the slacks to her hamper along with her underwear and bra. Everything smelled like smoke. Sighing, she tested the water, added a dash of apple-scented oil to it, and slipped into the tub with a contented sigh. For a second, all dark thoughts faded into the background as the world cocooned around her. She let the warmth engulf her, gave into her desire for quiet, and let herself slide under the water’s surface. Holding her breath, she closed her eyes and just enjoyed the nothingness that washed over her. She wondered if this was what it had been like for the people she had taken with her from the Fairytale Kingdom to Storybrooke in the few moments between their old and new lives. A clean, blank, slate.

Coughing, Regina broke the surface, her lungs burning. She really needed to give up smoking. Still, it had been good while it lasted, and these days, she could count the good moments on one hand: when she was with Henry, when she was with Emma—even if they were fighting—when she was gardening, and in the rare event someone didn’t ignore her, shout at her, or in another way negatively reacted to her in the even rarer event she went into town these days. This really was no way to live. Had she not had Henry in her life—and Emma, her treacherous mind added—she would have left to find the single Kingdom word of her deeds had not yet reached and try to find happiness there. As it stood, though, she was as trapped in Storybrooke as everyone else. She actually had people to lose.

That revelation caused a rare smile to grace Regina’s lips. At least there were some bridges she had not yet burned. She’d gotten close—and she probably would put them at risk again—but for now, they were intact, and one of them would be here in… she glanced at the clock and cursed a censored curse. She only had an hour left before Emma would show up on her doorstep. 

Strong hands lathered her hair with apple-scented shampoo as she sat on the edge of the bath, and without realizing it, thoughts of Emma tangling her fingers into her hair made their way to the forefront of Regina’s mind. She drank the memories like she was parched, letting the memories of Emma’s hands on her body guide her as she extended the foamy lather further down. Emma’s forearm against her throat that one time after the Sheriff elections, Emma cupping her breasts for the first time in the yard, with the molested apple tree as a backdrop, Emma’s hand on her stomach to keep her in place as her tongue crept lower and lower until all Regina could do was shout at her to finally eat her pussy—and Regina still could not believe she had actually said that. The grin that came to Emma’s face in that moment had so strikingly resembled that of the Cheshire Cat, that there was no denying, however. Sliding lower from where her hand had ended after that particular memory, Regina washed her legs, lifting first one, than the other, from the water. Emma’s hands holding on to her to steady herself, Emma’s tongue as she trailed a lazy trail towards her core. So many memories. Regina sighed and washed the lather off of her hands before pulling the plug out of the bottom of the bath and watching the water drain, her body still soapy and warm.

Once she had regained enough of her composure, she stood, turned on the faucet, and rinsed the soap out of her hair and off of her body. For a moment, she imagined the knot in her stomach to wash away with the water, but it only made her more nervous, so she stopped. Abruptly, she shut the water off and stepped out of the tub. Wrapping her body in a towel, she entered the adjacent bedroom and looked the selection of clothes that she had laid out for herself earlier: a matching black lace set of undergarments, the midnight blue form fitting dress she knew Emma liked, and black heels that were so high she knew even she would have to navigate carefully about the house. A delicate golden chain rounded off the outfit. By the time she had slipped it all on, she only had twenty minutes left for hair, make-up, and plate setting. At least there wasn’t enough time to completely unravel at the impossibility of tonight. While she was on the topic, though…

This was the time Regina had to face facts. Emma was young, and naive, and incredibly stubborn. She tended to act first, think later, and Snow’s incessant nagging about True Love and fairytale endings had probably infected the young blonde to such a degree that whatever bit of reality growing up outside of the Kingdom had left her with had probably been scrubbed away long before Neverland. While Regina blow-dried her hair to sexy perfection, she wondered why she was dressing up at all—why she had said yes to the blonde princess who had obviously planned out the whole thing yesterday. Her lips curled into a smirk as the Evil Queen in her rose to slowly applaud Emma for actually thinking at all. She couldn’t really blame Emma for not thinking it through entirely; she was a Charming, after all.

While she reddened her lips, Regina wondered once more about her happy ending. Was there a line established that, when you crossed it, the Powers That Be decided to take it away from you? Or could they predict in advance that this one was just not going to work out? Were there, perhaps, a limited amount of happy endings to give away? Because that would explain a lot, actually. Perhaps she was simply a tool in some grand cosmic scheme, a pivot to put whatever plot into motion. Regina laughed, but it wasn’t good naturedly; this was the laugh of her dark heart—the one without hope and with too much reality behind it. No, her fate was of her own doing and there was no ‘higher power’ to blame. If True Love had been in the cards for her, she had destroyed her own shot at it long ago.

With a sigh, Regina finished her make-up and stepped into view of the full length mirror. Her long legs, come-fuck-me make-up and the killer heels oozed sex, but the high neckline of the dress and otherwise conservative cut of it gave her a majestic feel and allowed her to reign herself in, hiding all desires and insecurities behind her assets. She could do this. She could play whatever game Emma had thought up and get through the night without showing her vulnerabilities to the blonde Charming.

She navigated the stairs expertly and set the table for whatever food Emma brought; a dinner plate, with a smaller, deeper, one on top in case of liquids or difficult to manage dishes. She checked the silverware for imperfections before laying them out on the dinner table, putting herself at the head of it and Emma to her right. The thought of sitting opposite the woman or eating anywhere less formal had seemed like bad idea to Regina, whose nerves were already shot as it was. She had just finished bringing glasses to the table and folding the napkins into a standing peak when there was a knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, Regina steadied herself and felt her ‘Mayor mask’ slide into place. With a confidence that only came to her after a few paces, Regina opened the door and stepped aside to let in the blonde, who was wearing a mouth-watering display of tight dark jeans, a white tank top and her leather jacket. Her hair was down in curls—the way Regina enjoyed it most—and she wore virtually no make-up. Emma smirked at her in a predictably overconfident way. It seemed the princess was still very happy with her scheme.

“Hey…” Emma said, and entered. She handed over the brown paper bag in her hand and Regina took it as she closed the door behind Emma.

“Good evening, Miss Swan.” Regina answered and swallowed as Emma walked past her and casually slid the red leather off of her shoulders, exposing perfect skin, strong shoulders and perfectly muscled arms that Regina longed to feel wrapped around her. The feeling was so strong, she had to busy herself with the bag in her hands to hide it until she could dig into her Evil Queen persona further.

“We will be dining in the dining room.” She stated and Emma turned to her with that grin that was so uniquely Emma’s.

“I’m surprised, Regina. I figured you for the ‘dinner on the couch in front of the TV’-type.” Emma quipped and Regina relaxed slightly. She could do sarcasm and wit, even without cigarettes or heavy ammunition. 

“You know very well, Miss Swan, that I do not watch television, nor would I enjoy balancing a plate of food on my lap when there are perfectly fine designated dinner areas in this house.” She shot back, shooting daggers at the woman who was heading to the dining area ahead of her. Emma threw up her hands in mock surrender.

“Stop talking,” Emma answered, the amusement plainly detectable in her voice. “I’m too hungry.” She added and disappeared into the dining room. Regina allowed herself an eye-roll and followed after her, calming her poor heart and steeling herself for the clusterfuck this evening would undoubtedly turn into.


	4. When Worlds Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this to Imagine Dragons' 'Radioactive'. Let that be a warning.

Emma let her eyes slide over the dinner table, of which the far side was done up to restaurant perfection. She smiled appreciatively, but didn’t comment. Where would be the fun in that? As Regina walked past her on her way to the table, Emma allowed herself to drag her eyes over the other woman’s back, dipping to perfect legs before coming back up. She’d been lying when she said she was hungry; the sight of Regina as she opened the door had taken away the monstrous appetite Emma had developed during the day—for food, anyway. Her appetite for the ex-Mayor only grew as the woman sauntered over to the table and delicately sat down the bag on it. 

“I hope you appreciate the menu...” Emma said before Regina had a chance to open the bag fully. Without acknowledging her, Regina continued her unpacking and set a clear plastic container with a salad down on the table, followed by an opaque container. Popping the lid, the corner of Regina’s mouth curled into a short smile, and Emma did an inward victory dance. 

She had gone for something enticing but not entirely romantic. Besides, it was Regina’s go-to dish at parties and she wanted Regina to know that she paid attention to these kinds of details. It seems as if Regina realized that too.

“Lasagna, Miss Swan?” She asked her blonde dinner companion shortly and Emma shrugged, digging her hands in her pockets for added nonchalance. 

“You seem to enjoy it. If you don’t like it, you can also take the salad? I thought we could share, though.” Emma said, complimenting herself on her suave handle of the situation. This first-date-with-Regina crap wasn’t so hard. Instead of answering her, Regina took away the deeper plates from the table and put them back in the porcelain cabinet before distributing the meal equally between two plates.

“Sit, Miss Swan. I will be right back with a bottle of Chardonnay.” The dark woman motioned to one of the chairs and collected the containers before taking them with her to the kitchen. Emma took the opportunity to look about the room which she assumed was greatly underused. The room was welcoming in a stately sort of manner, with green drapes—still open—and delicately crafted furniture. She wondered how Henry had grown up in this room, if he had sat at this table with crayons and a piece of paper, or a container of finger paint. The thought made her genuinely smile, and she resolved to ask Regina about raising Henry one day. Her musings had left her standing at the chair Regina had picked out for her and when she heard Regina’s heels clicking her way, she had to hurry to take her seat before the other woman would find her still standing.

The bottle of wine in Regina’s hands had been opened already and Regina walked over to Emma’s place setting to pick up her glass. She poured a modest drink for the woman and handed it to her with a quirked eyebrow, presenting the label on the bottle to her. It took Emma a few seconds to realize Regina wasn’t being cheap with the wine but was letting her do a taste-test to see if it was up to her standards.

Regina must have known full well that Emma had zero taste in wine—regardless of its color, age, or name—but Emma cleared her throat and defiantly emulated the wine tasters she had once seen in a documentary on the Discovery Channel. She let the wine circulate in the glass, sniffed at it, took a little sip and nodded. 

“It’s good.” She bluffed, and Regina smirked her evilest smirk, but let her get away with her boast. She added another measure of wine to the glass before pouring herself a glass as well, setting the bottle on the table and taking her seat.

Emma had to admit that this was probably the fanciest ‘date’ she had ever been on. Generally, her dates involved paper plates, pizza, and beer. That said, it also tended to include an actual conversation—something sorely missing during this one. Emma glanced up at Regina, who was taking small, sophisticated, bites of her food, chewing thoughtfully, and swallowing in a slow rhythm that was actually quite fascinating to watch. The dark haired woman also didn’t glance up at her, so Emma felt she was given free rein to stare. 

“Is the way I chew my food of that much interest to you, Miss Swan…?” Regina’s gravelly voice cut through Emma’s thoughts and the blonde jumped, stuffing the bite that had sat on her fork forlornly into her mouth with great gusto. She shook her head and indicated that her mouth was full so she really shouldn’t talk. Now, indeed, looking up, amused dark eyes scrutinized her guest and perfect lips curled up at the edges in a well-deserved smirk.

Choking down the bite, Emma rushed to recover her composure and took a sip of her wine—which really was good, for wine. Setting the glass down, she chose not to answer Regina’s question and instead changed the subject.

“So,” she started, causing the other woman to look at her with one eyebrow perfectly raised. “How was your day?” Regina pondered the question a moment, examining Emma’s eyes and then busied herself with cutting another bite of lasagna. 

“It was… good.” She eventually answered, taking a bite. Emma rolled her eyes and shot a pointed look at Regina. Conceding, Regina put down her utensils and wiped her hands and mouth with her napkin before continuing. “I… worked in the garden, took Henry to his play-date, and prepared for your arrival.” She added neutrally. Emma could tell she was leaving out a good few hours but at least this was better than nothing.

“How were things with Jacques and Octavius?” Emma asked neutrally, trying to keep the woman talking despite the awkwardness that was settling over them as a blanket. Regina had once again reached for her eating utensils, but put them down again at the question. The woman was a mess at small talk, Emma concluded, and it really wasn’t her forte either.

“I saw only Mr. Checkers.” Seeming to realize that in this world the two gay men and their adoptive son Luke all carried the same post-curse last name, she quickly amended to a less formal option. 

“Jacques, I mean”. Emma grinned, secretly enjoying the moment Regina realized her error. When an answer to her actual question was not forthcoming, Emma added another pointed look.

“Right,” Regina answered, her posture stiffening at the turn of the conversation. “He seemed quite well.” She added, and Emma had to stop herself from rolling her eyes—again—at the hidden layers to that comment. Before she could take another stab at small talk, however, Regina leaned back a little and cut her off with a raised hand.

“Miss Swan, why are we here?” She asked. It seemed Regina had finally gotten fed-up with the awkwardness that was this damn dinner. Emma sighed and put her own cutlery down. She wasn’t hungry anyway. She debated playing dumb to Regina’s question for a moment but realized that would be useless; the woman was in her ‘straight for the jugular’-mode. Instead she sighed and slumped slightly.

“Okay, fine, cards on the table.” Emma began and Regina’s smirk returned. Undeterred, Emma continued, flushing slightly at her own admissions.

“We have been having mind blowing sex for… well, months now—and more of it than ever, lately.” She started. “Then Neverland happened, and we became… you know… closer. Not just adversaries with benefits anymore. You are Henry’s second mother and I-I like you. I like being with you, although you drive me up the wall sometimes.” She paused for a brief moment, resisting the urge to run her hand over her face at how badly she sucked at this. 

“I guess I just wanted a date, see where this could go.” She wrapped up her impromptu speech, as she motioned a hand between Regina and herself. Regina, for her part, had sat motionless in her chair, an unreadable mask on her features. She smirked and sassed:

“Mind blowing sex, huh?” 

The statement only served to infuriating the blonde.

“Come on, Regina! I’m putting myself out there. That’s the only thing you caught from that?” She threw back, and right away Regina’s gloves came off, having seemingly been wating for a reason to go off. The smile faded from her face, and an intensity came to her eyes that caused Emma’s heart to pound in her chest—and not in the good way. Regina leaned forward slightly, pushing her plate away from the table’s edge to make room for her interlinked hands and fixed Emma with a stare that cut through flesh and bone.

“Miss Swan,” Regina started, and Emma could tell that what was to follow would not be positive. “I am twice—nearly three times—your age. In the time I have been alive, I have given orders to torture and kill hundreds of people. I have crushed the hearts of my enemies in my hands, and gloated over their demise. I have tried to kill your mother on more occasions than I can recall at this point in time, and have done everything in my power to make Snow White’s life a living hell. Not only that, but I have taken the elite from the Fairytale Kingdom and put them here—in human bodies where they had none—gave them false memories which would keep them from their happy-ever-after’s and terrorized them for twenty-eight years. In order to do this, I ripped the beating heart of my father out of his chest and sacrificed it in a magical ritual I literally killed to perfect. I have manipulated, hurt, and degraded everyone in this town—including you and Henry. You have said it yourself, Miss Swan: that person is who I was, and will always be. A few days in Neverland did not change that—and even there I took the heart of a boy just over Henry’s age in order to manipulate him into doing my bidding.” 

Emma tried to interfere at this point, but Regina’s angry stare froze her to her chair. This was as close to the Evil Queen Emma had seen Regina in a long time—perhaps ever—and it was a scary sight to behold. The vein on her forehead was throbbing angrily, her voice so calm that the impact of her words was even greater. Emma shivered against the chill that seemed to creep up on them, and the smell of lasagna, which had been mouth watering before, now made her nauseous.

“In the time you have known me—which is just a wink in the span of my life, I should add—I have tried to poison you, and nearly killed the son you entrust me with. I have crushed the heart of the man you gave yours to, out of spite and jealousy. I have tormented your parents, keeping them apart as long as I possibly could. I have done everything in my power—everything—to run you out of this town…and after all of this, you come here with lasagna and naiveté, thinking that the ‘mind blowing sex’ we have had in the past is somehow an indication of a possible future between you and I.”Regina added mercilessly, cutting deeper by applying air quotes to the quote from Emma.

“You are so very young, Miss Swan, and I remember being your age. It seems like wisdom is at your fingertips and the world is a place that makes sense—that is black and white—well, let me tell you: it is anything but.” Regina’s voice had become even lower, intending to go for maximum damage, and Emma’s fear and shock was rapidly turning into anger of her own. Regina stood abruptly, startling Emma, who defiantly remained seated.

“Now if you would be so kind as to gather your belongings, I want you out of my house. You are no longer welcome here, Miss Swan. I have indulged your childish fantasy long enough. Do not return unless to pick up Henry.” She had moved to the hallway, waiting for Emma, who was still sitting in her chair, and had now turned red for an entirely different reason. Regina knew all the right buttons to push, and pushed every single one of them. Some of the revelations Regina had made had, indeed, cut Emma deeply and she couldn’t tell yet how they impacted the view she held of the woman before her. Yet, if anything, Emma was stubborn and not afraid—or smart—enough to back away from this fight, although it would most likely be in her best interest to do so.

“No.” Emma said dangerously as she dragged her eyes over to the furious woman in the hallway.

“No?” Regina repeated, not the least bit impressed. “Miss Swan, if I do not see you leave my house in the next ten seconds, so help me, I will do it for you.” Regina threatened through clenched teeth as she demonstratively magicked the door open before balling her hands into fists to her sides. Even Emma—who really wasn’t that sensitive to magic—could feel it coming off of Regina in waves. 

Emma was on her feet before she realized what she was doing. She was nose-to-nose with Regina in three strides, and she poked a finger in the dark woman’s chest as she shouted at her. Enough was enough; she had come here with good intentions, not to start fucking World War III.

“You are fucked up, you know that?! I came here with the best intent—I brought you food, offered you a good thing!” she shouted angrily and Regina’s eyes narrowed dangerously before Emma’s world flipped up-side-down—literally—as she was magically tossed sideways out onto the pavement in front of Regina’s house. She had wanted to say more, cut as deeply as Regina had done, but Emma groaned deeply as she impacted heavily on the stones, and needed a few moments to recover from the shock and pain. Her shoulder had taken the brunt of the impact and felt like it was on fire. Still seething, she managed to get to her hands and knees and toss her hair out of her face to see Regina in the door opening, her face unreadable, her posture stiff. As she watched, Regina slowly closed the door and turned off the light in the hallway.

Emma groaned and pushed herself up, tentatively feeling her shoulder and coming away with blood from the scrapes. Setting her jaw, resolving never to return to the psycho, Emma walked off. If this was her reward for good behavior, two could be evil in this game. Swearing all the way to her Bug, Emma sped off.


	5. Pins and Needles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written to Linkin Park's 'Numb'. Again, let that be a warning.

With the click of the door, all anger left Regina, and her eyes widened as the events of the past few minutes looped themselves in front of her mind’s eye. Her hand flew up to her mouth, covering parted lips as the full weight of what she had just done settled on her like the weight of the heavens on the shoulders of the titan Atlas. 

Slumping against the door, she used her magic to turn off the lights and felt hot tears run down over her hand. Before long, her body was convulsing in agony as her mind relentlessly replayed the events—her unwillingness to settle into the event, her impromptu speech, flinging Emma out of the door, the blood on her shoulder and arm as she got up, jacket still in hand. Most of all, though, her mind repeated Emma’s words again and again.

_“You are fucked up, you know that?! I came here with the best intent—I brought you food, offered you a good thing!”_

_A good thing_. Regina sobbed, her heart breaking, her fear growing, her self-loathing reaching a new high. A good thing. She didn’t deserve a good thing, any good thing. Especially not Emma, who had tried so valiantly to give her a pleasurable evening. If she had just gone along with it, had allowed Emma to be the knight in shining armor who swooped her off her feet. They could be in bed right now, making love—not sex, like before. Regina could have been happy. It wouldn’t have been easy, and there would have been consequences—for her and Emma—but at least they would have been able to make a go at it. 

Well, that possibility was done with and over now.

Regina stood, angrily wiping her tears away but finding new ones in their place right away. She kicked off her heels and briskly headed for the dining room where she was confronted with the remnants of a meal half eaten and poisoned by the darkness that resided in Regina’s heart.

She had hurt Emma—not just argued with her like they always did, but had gone in for the kill. She had opened up every wound, poked at every bear, had awakened every dog. She had not just wanted to maim, but to destroy, Emma’s confession sparking every doubt and speaking to every fear that Regina harbored. Once again, her defensive reflexes had overtaken her rational mind and any progress she had made in the last few months was undone in seconds. She had seen the look in Emma’s eyes, and she could still hear herself—voice almost unrecognizable—tell Emma to never return to the house, unless Henry was involved.

A wave of fear so great that Regina crumpled to the ground hit her. Henry. After this, Emma would surely take him away from her—for good this time. There was nothing Regina could do about it where she came out with Henry at the end. She had realized—really realized—in Neverland that Emma had only fought her so hard over Henry because she loved him. Partly because he was her son, partly because she thought he was in danger as long as he was with Regina. And now, Regina couldn’t blame her. Once was forgivable, tossing someone out of your house twice was not; especially not under these circumstances.

With an outcry born of grief, anger at herself, and self-loathing, Regina rose from the ground by innate magic that finally overflowed from her person. Magic was nothing but emotion put into form, and Regina felt she only existed as raw emotion right now. She had never been in this much pain. Even the shocks that had been administered to her by the ghost from her past had not managed to draw out this much pain in her. Not even Daniel’s death—twice—had been able to draw out this kind of desperation in her; then again, she had not been as corrupted then. 

Overcome, she could feel the form of her person blur at the edges as magic washed out from her core, intent on destruction, on finding relief any way she could. Before long, her feet left the ground as she levitated in the center of a magical cyclone and with a cry that was not even recognizable as human, she released the brunt of her power. 

One after the other, the light bulbs in the house glowed brightly and popped, raining sparks down. The table was flung into the back wall so hard, it shattered to pieces. One of the chairs took out the window as it rode the wave of unadulterated power. The glass in the cabinets shattered and the large mirror seemed to hold together just long enough for Regina to get a glimpse of her contorted face and purple glowing eyes before that shattered as well. The china didn’t fare much better and the sound of things breaking could be heard even from the hallway and kitchen. By the time the storm settled and Regina was kneeling on the ground, sobbing, most of the interior had been destroyed. 

Completely drained, Regina could only breathe in the deafening silence her melt-down had left behind. In the distance—the kitchen, she guessed—something made of glass fell belatedly to its doom, cracking the silence with it. Tears came anew—tears of guilt and shame. Perhaps this was the right time to leave. Disappear. She had given up on her own happiness, but perhaps taking herself out of the equation would offer a chance at happiness for Emma and Henry. They could stay with the Charmings and Emma could further explore a relationship with that hooked moron—who couldn’t possibly do worse things to Emma than she herself had done. At this point, even Neal was a better choice than Regina; Regina saw that now. 

With renewed determination—having found a new purpose in life and a way to potentially make it up to Emma—she gathered herself from the ground and dusted herself off. Looking around, she was shocked at the amount of damage she had managed to do to the house she had been so proud of. Yet, it had all meant nothing. The luxury she had provided for herself had been just another barrier, another castle wall no one dared to penetrate. The fact she had picked a white one this time, and not one made of black marble, had not changed the fact that it housed a monster.

Her mind dark with her thoughts, Regina traversed the rubble to the stairs, hurting her bare feet in the process but not caring. The pain felt good to her soul—a physical reminder of her internal pain. As she reached the first floor, she observed the magical wave had reached even here. Her precious vases lay ruined on the carpet, a table tuned on its side. She crossed to her bedroom without giving the display another glance. 

She packed a bag within minutes. There was not much she needed and even less than she wanted to be remembered of. She packed enough to make it through the first few hours and zipped up the bag. At that point, she dug into her closet for a pair of jeans, a simple dark red spaghetti top and a black blouse which she buttoned with shaking hands. She took a few moments to wipe the make-up from her face—looking to disappear in the crowd and not stand out—and look at herself in the mirror. It was better now she had decided on a course of action. Her insides were still in knots and tears pricked at the back of her eyes, but at least she had a purpose now: a new way to do good and try to undo the damage to the people she loved. Because she did love—intensely. She loved the way she fought—passionately, deeply, and eternally. She laughed a bitter laugh at her decision to leave—flee, she forced herself to admit—hoping to at least make life better for those she loved. She loved without lessening, and in that way, her love was her destruction. She vowed she would not drag anyone else with her in her misery this time—not like with Daniel.

Once she had healed her feet and slipped on pumps, she only had one more thing to do. From her nightstand, she took a pad and a pen and took a few moments to gather her thoughts. There was so much to say to Henry that she doubted she had enough paper to get it all down. In the end, she wrote only a few words:

_My dearest Henry,_

_I am sorry I had to leave. Perhaps one day, you will understand. Know that I only want the best for you, and Emma can give you that.  
Cherish only the good._

_I will love you forever,_

She hesitated a moment and then signed the letter with just her name, distancing herself from being his mother. She wondered for a moment if this was really the best thing for him—to have her sneak out like a thief in the night. Yet, Henry had not exactly been the supportive son lately—for which he had his reasons, some even valid—and he seemed to enjoy spending time with the Charmings. Emma had come a long way in being a good mother, and Henry was no longer the defenseless baby he had been when she had first gotten him. 

Another sob tore through her body as her mind was overcome with memories of Henry’s life with her. Of all the Sunday brunches, the scraped knees she had kissed better, the endless list of books she had read him at bedtime, the way he used to fall asleep in her arms. They had shared many good years together and she had given him a good start in life. Regina stood and picked up her bag and the letter. She had done her job with him: now it was time for the Charmings to make a prince out of him. 

With resolute strides, Regina shouldered her bag and left the note on Henry’s pillow. Yes, this was the right decision. She wouldn’t do more harm than she had already inflicted. As a purely selfish note, her treacherous mind supplied that this way, she also wouldn’t have to face Emma after what she had done. Coward, she thought to herself and sighed. Perhaps, but she was not changing her mind. She was leaving Storybrooke and taking herself out of the equation. Forever. 

If only she had done so sooner...


	6. The Dark Before The Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to AWOLNATION's 'Sail', in the Liquid Stranger remix.

The fact that Emma made it home without lethal damage to either herself or another Storybrooke resident was only because, by a quarter to eight, the streets were already virtually deserted. So much so that a fuming Emma ran a red light twice and never felt she was betraying her shield by doing so. That might have had to do with her foul mood, however. 

Emma was livid. No, Emma was hurt, and that made her livid. Regina’s words reverberated inside her skull; Regina’s insults towards her person, but more so, the account of Regina’s deeds. She had known about most of them; the fact that Regina had murdered her father to complete the curse had been new and while she had been aware of Regina’s involvement in Graham’s death, and she had even let her pain about the event slip into the fight the two had while Henry was in the hospital for eating Regina’s turn-over—God, Regina really did have a history of fucking over people’s lives—she had never heard Regina admit to killing him. Emma couldn’t pretend not to be shaken by that one. 

The cavalier way Regina coped to murder had been a chilling experience. Emma—who had already felt like the worst person in the world when caught with stolen watches, despite her bad-girl image—couldn’t imagine literally being responsible for the death of so many people. She knew, of course, what Regina had done—especially wiping out an entire village because they had harbored Snow White; that one was still a recurring nightmare for her mother—but if was different to hear Regina herself hinting at it. 

Emma had never truly linked Regina and the Evil Queen in her mind, despite Henry’s best intentions to get it through her thick skull when she first came to town. She had always seen Regina as having moved beyond that, tempered by her time in a world cut off from the magical realm of the Fairytale Kingdom. Here, in a place where ethics and morals were different, the Evil Queen could not manifest; not really. She did not have the magic, nor a reason to. Emma had never been able to translate the monster from the pages of Henry’s book to her own world. As soon as she had met Regina, she had realized Regina was not evil, but broken. Maybe that had been her projecting herself onto the other woman, however.

Her revelation had not limited her own enflamed reaction any, but the difference between Regina—who was far too emotionally scarred to be the Evil Queen—and the bane of her parents’ existence was so great that Emma had automatically tallied the events of the past into a minus one score for the woman and had moved from that. Regina had always had a shot at redemption in Emma’s eyes. Yet, the tally had kept growing and growing in the wrong direction. Apple, apple turn-over, Henry, Graham, the curse, Cora… every one of Regina’s evil deeds now ran through Emma’s head and she almost missed the turn in the road which brought her to the apartment she shared with her parents. As Emma got out, she had to admit to herself that—perhaps—not much had changed between then and now; that Regina’s evil heart had simply been resting, waiting, until there was a chance to lash out.

She slipped her jacket over her shoulder and winched. Nothing broken, everything busted up. She didn’t want Snow to see her injuries. She headed inside with her face set to thunder, deep in thought over the current turn of events, and a heart that hurt with every beat. Her father was nowhere in sight, but her mother was in the kitchen. Emma gruffly greeted her as she opened the door and closed it behind her without much thought. Snow turned around in surprise.

“Back so soon? How was your mystery da—Emma, are you okay? Is that blood?” Snow rushed out, rounding the counter and heading towards Emma who held up her hands in an attempt to ward off her mother.

“Not now.” She gritted out through clenched teeth, not slowing on her way to her room. Snow had gotten better realizing where the boundaries of motherhood lay with Emma, but right now, she couldn’t even deal with the friendship her mother and former friend offered.

“Emma?” Snow called after her, but Emma threw the door to her room shut. With a frustrated sigh, Emma slid the jacket carefully off of her shoulder and only now realized the white tank top also had bloodstains on the front of it. _Great_ , she mused. That was why she had been found out by her mother. She backed herself up to the mirror over her sink and checked the damage. Trying to clean the mess, she used a clean washcloth and some water to rid the area of the blood coating it and winced with every touch. She was going to kill Regina for this.

Once inspected, the damage was severe, but not as bad as what she had anticipated. A good chunk of skin had been scraped off, but the wounds were shallow enough. Still, the swelling was quite bad, and letting anything touch it was agony, especially now her adrenaline slowly wore off. 

This was insane. Emma turned around and leaned down on the sink as she looked herself in the mirror. What the hell had just happened? Why had Regina gone off like that? Better yet, why had she let Regina’s outburst get the better of her? Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and reached out for a jar of aspirins. Not only was her shoulder hurting, but she also felt a major headache coming on.

Just who did Regina think she was, anyway? She might have been Queen and Mayor once, but stripped of all rank and right, Regina was just a witch now. Yeah, Emma was a good deal younger in biological age, but Regina had spent the majority of that time doing a Groundhog Day routine with the village idiots. That didn’t exactly count as life experience, although she had to give Regina credit for raising Henry into the young man he was becoming—if Emma didn’t fuck him up too badly. She still wasn’t all too certain about her ability to raise a kid, although the hardest part seemed to be over already. 

She swallowed two tablets with a sip of water and took another look at herself in the mirror. Emma’s primary reaction to any adversity was to pack up and run—and in a sense, she had done exactly that today. She had let Regina—literally—throw her out of the house and out of her life. Just like she had tried to do with her and Henry, but Henry was a stubborn little kid, and it was a trait he shared with his birth mother. Emma smiled proudly at that and but stopped when she realized she was complimenting herself on adolescent behavior. She hadn’t run with Henry, why was she running now?

God, why did this have to get so fucked up? It was just supposed to be dinner! She had expected it would be awkward, had even expected it to end badly, but not like this. Was this how Regina reacted when kindness was shown to her? Emma racked her brain for memories to serve as comparison and came up with pathetically few of those. Showing kindness to Regina has never been high on the agenda of the greater population of Storybrooke, let alone her parents or even Emma herself. Even Henry had turned against her as soon as Mary Margret had given him that book of fairytales. There were a few moments, Emma realized. When Emma had refused to let Regina die at the soul-sucking hands of the wraith, or when she had pulled Regina out of that fire… or even when she had protected her from the mob after the curse had been broken. During all those exchanges, Regina’s first reaction was shocked surprise, Emma realized, and then she lashed out. Emma could see the light bulb come on in her head, and wondered how it was possible she hadn’t realized it sooner: Regina was afraid. She was deathly afraid of showing weakness, of showing love. Cora’s words to that effect suddenly rang in Emma’s mind and Emma realized that if that was what Regina grew up with, it was no wonder she reacted to love or even kindness like a mad woman.

“God!” Emma cursed herself. She kicked the wastebasket from under the sink, sending the contents flying through the room. God, how could she have been so stupid! Regina was hurting herself before Emma could, shutting down any chance of them having a go at it because… It took Emma a moment to formulate this next part, but found it came to her easy when she took into account her own life. Because people were cruel and selfish, and if you opened your heart to them, you only left yourself open to pain. Years in the foster system had taught her that, at least. On top of that, Emma now realized—God!—that Regina must be feeling crushingly guilty over her past actions. Now Emma looked back on Regina’s actions the last month or so, she could see the changes Regina had tried to make to her person with crystal clarity. She knew the woman was trying to do better, but her sharp tongue had kept Emma lulled into a false sense of status quo.

The hell, how often had Regina given up Henry to them—to her—despite the pain it would have caused her? How often had Regina stepped aside to let the Charmings save the day? How often had she lashed out not out of darkness, but out of pain…? Emma felt like a complete idiot. It didn’t excuse a damn thing, but it put things into perspective. It also meant Regina was not getting away with this behavior. Not this time.

With steely determination now in her eyes, Emma turned away from the mirror and grabbed her jacket. She winched against the pain as she slid it on and pulled open the door, hurrying down to the living room where Snow sat waiting anxiously, obviously hopeful her daughter was going to come out and talk to her. The dark haired woman’s face fell as she caught sight of Emma and it became clear Emma had no intention of joining her mother for tea and cookies.

“Emma! Where are you—” Her mother called out after her as Emma hurried past. 

“I’m going to talk some sense into someone; possibly with my damn fists.” Emma called to a rising Snow and slammed the door, leaving Snow behind in confusion and worry.

The ride to the ex-Mayor’s house was even more frantic this time. A sense of clarity and dread mixed in with the anger still simmering low in her belly. More and more puzzle pieces fell into place, but Emma realized she knew precious little about Regina’s time as Evil Queen, and even less of the time before those events. She knew Regina had saved Snow from falling off of a horse when she was young and that that event had been the catalyst for her eventual marriage to King Leopold—there was a thought for the record books, by the way, and Emma had to shake her head at the thought of Regina having sex with her grandfather—and she knew that Snow had betrayed Regina’s confidence. Then… things had happened; things that were vague enough for Emma not to be able to recall any semblance of a timeline. In her frustration, Emma hit the steering wheel with her right hand and winced as her shoulder protested. 

After that, there had been the years long mess of Regina trying to kill Snow White and the related war… and then there was the curse, which led to an even more messed up timeline of ‘Stepford Wives’-living until Henry got the story book from his teacher and begun to realize the truth. At that point, Emma had shown up and events had unfolded at lightning speed. Fast forward to now where Emma ran her third red light of the night and eventually pulled up to Regina’s mansion. 

She parked the car haphazardly on the curb and jumped out, now ready to head over to that door and pound on it while screaming her head off until Regina opened the damn door. All her fighting spirit was punched out of her, however, at the very un-Regina-like sight of the woman stepping out of her house with the deepest look of anguish Emma had ever seen. Emma’s eyes glanced from Regina’s face to her ridiculously unfamiliar outfit, to the bag in her hand. It was about that time that Regina noticed her and a look of fear and even deeper pain settled over worn features.

“Emma…” she couldn’t hear the word, but she read it on Regina’s lips. Emma took a step forward while Regina remained rooted to the spot. Realization dawned on Emma and she took another few steps. Regina was leaving. The woman in question just stood in the dark doorway, awaiting her fate.

“Regina…”


	7. Humpty Dumpty Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to the tunes of Imagine Dragons' 'Bleeding Out'.

“Regina…” Emma rasped, her voice somewhere between a prayer and a curse. Regina swallowed and broke eye-contact. Emma’s eyes once more settled on the bag that Regina now clutched against her chest. Time froze as past events caught up to them and both women battled their own demons. Then a sob broke the silence between them and Emma squared her shoulders. 

“You’re leaving.” She added flatly. It wasn’t a question. Regina refused to look at her, and didn’t speak, but she could see the tears streaming down Regina’s cheeks. 

"What am I supposed to tell Henry?" Emma asked, flashing back to the mine tunnels when Regina had been willing to sacrifice her own life for everyone else's--and leave Henry with her, if it meant the greater good was served. She had acknowledged the sacrifice then, but never stopped to realize what it meant for Regina. She had swallowed Regina's easy excuse—that it was only fitting she died with the trigger, as it was of her own creation—but in the new light of recent events, there was no such thing as an easy excuse. She could see now, finally—fucking finally—how self-defeating all of Regina’s actions were and although there were still a lot of puzzle pieces missing, she was starting to see a pattern.

She realized something else; Regina would never leave Henry without an explanation. She would have left something for him, something which would explain his sudden disappearance. The last time, the dark haired woman had talked to him prior, but Regina seemed to hardly be able to form a thought, let alone have a conversation with her son. No, Regina would have handled it another way…

“You wrote something…” she said, absolutely certain she was right. Her eyes widened and she was moving before she even consciously realized she was. Regina looked up at her now, eyes wide in a mixture of fear and shame.

“Don’t—” She warned, but Emma was already inside, glass crushing under her boots. It was dark—very dark—in the mansion, but the absolute carnage was easy enough to differentiate once her eyes got used to the lack of light. The interior had been totaled; absolutely everything which had not been bolted to the floor, wall, or ceiling had been destroyed. Nothing was in its place anymore. Emma turned around, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“You were going to let Henry come home to this…?” She asked in a low growl, motioning wildly to the disaster zone around her. “You were going to walk away and let people think something horrible had happened to you? You were going to let Henry and I think that?!” she added, her voice rising with each syllable. Regina, still in the door opening, was looking at her with wide, wild, eyes, obviously at a loss for words. 

“Forget it.” Emma abruptly turned around again, heading for the stairs. She took the steps two at a time, hearing the other woman follow almost silently.

She pushed open Henry’s room and saw that—besides the busted light bulbs and a crack in his window—his room was largely untouched. On his pillow lay a beige envelope and Emma shook her head as she reached for it, opened it with deliberate motions and shaking hands, and read the words Regina had penned down in her darkest hour. She read it again and again, feeling the dark woman’s eyes on her.

Without turning around, she eventually addressed Regina, voice cold and shaking with pent up emotion.

“Cherish only the good?” she quoted incredulously. “Seriously, Regina? “ She added, now indeed turning, and holding the letter up. “This is what you were going to leave your son?!”Emma added, not even aware of her use of the possessive adjective. Regina’s eyes went wide as she took a step back, backing up from the room. Her face was still stained with tears, and Emma’s heart was crying out. To not have Regina engage her when she yelled at her was so unfamiliar and wrong, Emma almost preferred another toss through the air.

“Alright, if that is how you want to play it, fine. You can leave, but not before you do one more thing.” She said roughly, moving forward and grabbing Regina by the wrist. Although Regina struggled a moment, she let herself be dragged down the stairs, and then outside. Emma shut the door behind them and then led them to the deathtrap parked precariously on the curb. She released Regina to open the door for her on the passenger side and almost shoved her in. With her left hand still firmly around the letter, she got into the car, backed out of the driveway, and sped off to the other side of town.

Emma ran her fourth red light, and the shell of Regina sitting next to her didn’t even notice. At that point, Emma’s anger turned to genuine fear for the well-being of her friend, her emotionally scarred lover, and the woman she could see herself feel a lot more for than she had so far admitted—even after everything Regina had thrown her way.

Regina didn’t move when the car came to a halt just out of view of the Checkers residence. Emma turned in her seat and looked at Regina, who was staring off into the distance, oblivious to anything around her. The woman had completely clocked out. Emma fought the urge to be gentle and instead shook her out of her reverie with a brusque ‘Hey!’.

Regina’s eyes flew to her, and took a while to settle. For a second Emma wondered if this was really the smartest thing to do right now, but she didn’t have any other plans, and no one to help her. Not anyone she wanted to explain the situation to, anyway, nor confront Regina with. 

“Turn invisible. I’m sure that’s in your bag of tricks somewhere.” Emma ordered. Regina looked at her without understanding the request. Emma rolled her eyes. “Turn. Invisible.” She articulated again and Regina cleared her throat.

“Why?” She rasped, and Emma had to stop her heart from leaping up at even this tiny victory. Regina’s voice sounded like whatever had happened to the mansion had caused the same damage to her vocal chords. Emma winched in sympathy at the sound that came out of Regina’s throat. 

“Because,” She said, after regaining her focus. “I want to show you something.” She said and held up the letter. Regina was a smart woman, and her head turned to look outside. Obviously realizing where they were, Regina turned back to her and pleaded with her, her eyes large as saucers. 

“Please, Emma. Don’t. Don’t do this.” She rasped, wincing herself this time. Emma would have none of it, though.

“This is what would have happened, Regina. The only difference now is that you get to watch it.” She answered gruffly, and got out of the car. She walked around the yellow monstrosity and opened the door for Regina who got out slowly, and clearly unhappy with the turn of events. 

“Do it.” Emma growled through clenched teeth, and Regina pleaded her one more time with her eyes before sighing and waving her hand over her head and down her body. When the purple smoke cleared, Regina was gone.

“Regina?” Emma asked, insecurity in her voice. For all she knew Regina could have poofed herself away instead of turning invisible. Then she felt cold fingers on her hand, and she let herself soak up the touch for half a second before reaching up with her hand and taking hold of Regina’s wrist once more. They walked the last few feet in silence, Emma’s one hand clamped around air, and the other around the folded letter. Emma hurried along the path to the house her son was sleeping over at, afraid to lose her nerve now she was about to come face-to-face with something she really wasn’t sure about doing.

She knocked on the door before she could change her mind and let go of Regina’s arm. She zipped up her jacket to hide her stained shirt, and steeled her resolve. This ended tonight, one way or the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be two more chapters after this, and an epilogue. I want to thank you all for reading this far and for commenting and the kudos. They mean the world. I am quite sure I will pick up this storyline again for a sequal to 'The Demons From Our Past' in the near future, but I am also toying with a Red Beauty fic I have been meaning to write. I guess we'll see for what inspiration strikes first. It's been a pleasure, so thank you!


	8. Humpty Dumpty Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two, same song, entirely new feels.

“Stay here.” She hissed in Regina’s general direction, and smiled lightly when the rounder of the two men opened the door. 

“Emma, what a pleasant surprise!” Octavius gushed and stepped aside to let her enter.

“Octavius, hey. Sorry to bother you so late. Is Henry still up? I really need to talk to him. Out here, if at all possible.” Emma said, and Octavius looked at her oddly before nodding. 

“Sure, sure, Sheriff, I’ll get him. The boys are playing in Luke’s room.” The good natured man said and walked inside, leaving the door open. The wait seemed to last forever, mostly because Emma had no way to check on Regina, and because this was not going to be pretty.

“Emma?” Henry said as he bolted down the stairs. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” She asked as he accepted a hug from his mom. 

“Hey kid, why don’t you come out and we’ll talk a bit.” She said. Octavius—who had come down the stairs at a slightly slower pace—closed the door to a crack and headed off into the living room, not wanting to intrude on what was obviously a private discussion. Emma looked at her son as she knelt down to his level. He was in his PJ’s, his shoes untied on his feet. His eyes were dark pools of worry and Emma had to take a deep breath to get the next part out. Henry beat her to it, though.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” He asked, looking clearly like he just wanted to get it over with. She took a breath and smiled lightly, sadly. He was too smart for his own good, and far too observant.

“It’s your mom.” She started, and Henry cut her off right away.

“Regina? What happened? Is she okay?” He asked, grabbing her arm as his eyes frantically sought out hers. Whatever had happened between the two of them, there was absolutely no denying that Henry loved Regina. He had his mood swings and there was the whole Evil Queen thing, but beyond all that, Regina was his mom. Period.

“I don’t know, kid. We had a fight—about something really stupid—and she left. She wanted you to have this, she left it on your pillow.” Emma said, feeling like absolutely the worst parent ever. Perhaps she was. Emma was not good at this parenting thing, but she would find a way to make all of this right—and that started with Regina.

Henry grabbed the letter and opened it. His panicked eyes flew over the words in much the same way Emma had done. He read it again, turned it over and then looked Emma straight in the eye.

“I don’t understand…” He said, his voice infinitely small. “Why would she leave? She’s coming back, right? She wouldn’t—” His self-control finally failed him and he started crying, falling into Emma’s arms, the letter clutched in his hand, crumpling it in the process.

“Shhh…” Emma whispered. “Your mom loves you very much. She’s only trying to do what’s best for you.” At this, Henry froze and extricated herself from her arms, his face no longer sad, but furious. 

“Then why did she leave?! Why did she leave me?! She’s my mom! I-I…” he faltered and more tears ran down his face. “Make it better, Emma. You make it better! You make her come back!” By now, he was yelling, and when his fists impacted on her chest, Emma was barely able to hold herself up right. Henry was flying through the stages of grief like a trooper.

“I don’t know if I can, Henry.” She said, and she meant it. She had thought Regina would have come out of hiding far sooner than this and she started to panic a little. What if Regina wasn’t watching this? What if what she was telling Henry was actually all completely true? At this, tears she had barely been able to contain all night finally spilled from her eyes as well, though not in the wave of emotion her son was still projecting onto her chest.

“You can!” Henry answered her, his shrill voice rising in pitch again. “If anyone can do it, you can! She loves you; she’ll come back for you. If you go and find her, she will come back!” Henry pushed, stopping his assault as his tears kept him from breathing in enough air to fuel his thrusts. “…and when you find her, you tell her that I love her and I want her to come back and she will come back. Maybe she doesn’t know, maybe she forgot that we love her.” Henry added, his mind frantically trying to find a way to stop his world from falling apart. 

“Henry…” Behind her son, Regina re-materialized, crying harder than Emma had ever seen her cry—and after the rest of the night, that was quite a feat—Emma watched Henry’s eyes go wide and he turned around on the spot, taking in the unfamiliar appearance of his mother. Emma exhaled a breath of pure relief.

“Mom…?” He questioned. He remained frozen to the ground for a second before he flew towards Regina, falling into her arms as she knelt down and then straightened to pick him up in the way she had done until he grew too old to appreciate it. She hugged his sobbing frame against her body, taking in his smell, his entire being, and holding it close.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m not going anywhere, Henry, I’m so sorry. I-I love you. I love you so much. I’m sorry, I’m sorry….” Regina murmured the words into his hair, onto his face, into his neck as she lathered him with kisses. Henry just held on to her neck, legs wrapped around her waist, clinging to her.

“You came back…” he eventually whispered into her neck, and Regina pulled him closer.

“Emma made me realize I could never leave you. Never. I love you more than anyone or anything in all the realms, Henry. You are my son,” she said, and said it so firmly, Emma felt she finally believed it herself. As their eyes met over their son’s shoulder, Emma smiled lightly. 

“You are our son.” Regina added, eyes locked with Emma, who nodded her confirmation. Despite the disheveled appearance of the other woman, Emma felt a weight lift off of her. There was life in those eyes again. 

Finally cramping up, Regina gently let down Henry, who refused to let go of her hand and lower arm, but reached with his other hand toward Emma. Emma took the offered hand as she stepped closer. She smiled at Henry, and then Regina. Regina smiled back lightly—gratefully—and lowered herself to her son’s level.

“Henry, I want you to listen to me.” She said as she brought back some semblance of decency to her son’s appearance before taking his hands. Their eyes met and she could still see the uncertainty and hurt in her son’s eyes. It was like a –well deserved—dagger to the heart.

“I was incredibly stupid and selfish tonight. I got really scared and… when I get really scared, I sometimes hurt people I love very much.” Regina said gently but clearly, forcing the words past her painful vocal chords. Emma suddenly felt like she really should not be hearing any of this, but didn’t want to interrupt the moment by walking off. Instead, she took to looking at the large chestnut tree ten feet off in the sheltered front garden of the mice-men, while unable to stop listening to the most heartfelt words she had ever heard Regina speak.

“I hurt your mom, and when I did that… I thought she was going to take you away from me for sure. I realized I was not strong enough to go through that—not again—and so I wanted to make it easier on her, on you. I wanted to make it up to her for hurting her. And so, I decided I would go away. I thought it would be better for everyone.” She said, tears that had finally stopped, slowly falling again. Henry listened to her with his best serious face and Emma felt herself tearing up again at the display of such radical honesty from the woman who was always so close-guarded with her feelings.

“Emma wasn’t going to take me away from you, right Emma?”Henry asked, but before Emma was able to swallow past the lump in her throat, Henry already continued. “And else I would have come to see you anyway—sorry mom.” He said to his blonde mother with a toothy grin. She ruffled his hair and smiled, keeping silent as her son seemed to have this well in hand.

“You’re my mom. Emma is my mom too, but… you were my mom first.” He said, and Emma had to admit it hurt a little to hear him say that. In the spirit of honesty, though, the kid was right; Regina was the first—and for a long time, only—parent he had known. Next to her, Regina and Henry embraced, and Emma looked down at their entwined frames. 

“I am so sorry for scaring you…” Regina said sadly, just loud enough for Emma to decipher.

“It’s okay.” Henry said, arms still around her neck. “You came back.” And with that, Henry’s heart seemed to heal as by magic. God, children were resilient, Emma mused. If only adults remained that forgiving… 

“That was the worst goodbye note ever, though, mom.” Henry suddenly piped, completely shattering the mood, and Emma couldn’t contain the somewhat manic laugh that bubbled up at his words. Regina’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance for a moment, before a smile came to her lips; a smile that expanded and turned into a full laugh that made Emma shiver in ways she did not fully want to admit to at this moment. Henry, obviously relieved that his moms were laughing together, joined in but once the laughter subsided, he looked from Emma to Regina ad back at Emma.

“Now make up.” He ordered. Emma looked down at him in confusion. 

“Huh?” She said, rather ineloquently, looking at her son for clarification. 

“You two were fighting, now you need to make it better.” Henry said, rolling his eyes at their obvious stupidity. 

“Right,” Emma said, very happy to comply with this request her son made. Regina looked a little uncertain again, and Emma could see the walls pulling up to cover it. Emma held out her hand and Regina took it. She helped the other woman up as they stood but a feet apart, still holding each other’s hand, Henry looking up at them approvingly, Emma whispered to her.

“Don’t hide.”

At Regina’s confused look, Emma smiled lightly and met the deep, dark, pools in front of her. “Don’t hide.” She repeated. “When you get scared, or insecure, you pull away because you think you’ll get hurt. I understand now,” Emma said, “And I have no intention of hurting you. I forgive you, Regina Mills, for anything and everything you think you need my forgiveness for. I can’t give you the forgiveness of anyone else in this crazy town, but you have mine, and we can work on everyone else, if you want my help with that.” Emma said and she meant every single word of it. She would be lying if she pretended that didn’t surprise her a little. 

“Now,” Emma said. “If you can say it and mean it, I want you to forgive me too. I have done some really crappy things to you the last few months, and we haven’t been exactly healthy for each other. So, I am asking you to forgive me as well.” Emma added, wondering if Regina even realized that she was not the only one who had apologies to make. Regina was studying her face, confusion plainly on her features, and it took Henry’s interference—again—to shake her out of her daze.

“Mom?” He asked and she looked at him before looking at Emma. 

“Of course.” Regina said, her voice thick with emotion. Emma smiled brightly—lovingly at her—and followed her instincts. She pulled the woman into a hug, closing the distance between them so their bodies were completely flush. Regina didn’t stiffen for a moment. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Emma and held on for dear life. They stood like that for a few moments, simply drinking in the other’s presence and then Emma broke the silence.

“I was never going to take Henry away from you.” She reassured in a whisper, close to the shell of Regina’s ear. “Not ever.” She added, emphasizing the fact that her statement held equally true beyond this situation. Regina pulled her in tighter. 

“I’m so sorry.” She said, and Emma ignored the pain in her shoulder in favor of intensifying her own hold on the woman. 

“I know.” Emma said into Regina’s neck and gently kissed the skin of it. “Now you can let that go.” She added wisely, and Regina smiled, even more so when Emma pulled back from her a little to admit their son to the mix. They stayed like that for a few moments and then Emma stepped back as reality crowded in. They were in a relatively sheltered garden, but still in the middle of Storybrooke, in the yard of a gay mouse couple, and it had been quite the night.

Emma kneeled down, finally letting go of Regina completely, and ruffled her son’s hair. She was quite sure he wasn’t going to like the next part, but it was necessary; not only was the house a complete mess, but Regina was about to keel over from exhaustion. Emma wasn’t faring much better.

“Kid, I know you want to come home with us, but your mom and I need a little time to talk, okay? Do you think you can stay here tonight? I promise everything is going to be okay with Regina and I. You can come home after school tomorrow, and we will answer all your questions then.” Emma said softly, unaware of Regina’s proud eyes on her. Henry looked between her and Regina, and eventually nodded.

“Okay,” he said, “But I want pie when I come home.” He added, knowing full well he was in a position to make demands. Emma was useless with an oven besides using it to heat up frozen pizza, so she looked at Regina instead, who beamed down at her son. 

“Deal.” She answered, and Henry beamed in return, hugging them both one more time before walking to the door ahead of them. They briefly explained the situation to Octavius, telling him that there had been a spot of trouble but that everything was fine now, and left it at that. Octavius didn’t feel the need to question the Sheriff or the ex-Mayor and former Evil Queen on what had really happened. By the time they had kissed Henry goodbye, Emma was just about dead on her feet, and Regina did not look much better. 

Without hesitation, Emma reached for the hand of the other woman and led her to the car. She once again held the door open for Regina, who climbed in herself this time, and gifted her with a gentle smile. Emma smiled back and took her spot in the car.

“Alright, Your Majesty, let’s get you to your castle.” Emma said and started the Bug. Regina smirked and turned her head to look at Emma, obviously debating on whether or not she was going to say something in reply. Exhaustion won out, and the silence of the evening ended up being the only thing between them as Emma patiently stopped for ever red light that stood between them and home.


	9. After The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cough* okay, the epiloge became so long, I decided to make it a separate chapter. The fic will now have a nice, round, number of chapters. The epilogue will be posted ASAP. If anyone is interested, the theme for this chapter is Bastille's 'Pompeii'.

Regina gingerly set foot in the house, Emma lagging slightly behind, so as not to crowd the woman as she took in the damage. Regina’s left hand carried a glowing ball of pale blue light which she used to illuminate her way as she took another few steps inside. She was aware of the blonde as she trailed her to the dining room, which had undoubtedly suffered the worst of the melt-down, but after all that had happened, she did not mind the audience as she let the full level of destruction sink in. 

Regina had to admit that the level of devastation she had managed to wreak upon the house was impressive. With the added light, she could see cracks in the ceiling and bits of plaster lying in piles on the floor, covering broken knick-knacks and furniture.

She had expected Emma to place a quip about the situation by now—that was her go-to trick in uncomfortable situations after all—but Emma was silent, just watching her quietly and taking in the state of her home. Perhaps Emma realized this was not the time for Regina to take criticism of any kind. Perhaps she wasn’t uncomfortable. Regina was surprised to discover that she was not, at least. She felt slightly ashamed at what happened here—and the pain she had caused in her son still haunted her greatly—but she was at peace with the situation she was now in.

Indeed, as she looked around, Regina didn’t feel half as bad as she thought she would. Perhaps it was simply because she was too exhausted to feel the full impact of the display in front of her, but she suspected in had more to do with Henry’s words which still glowed in her heart, and Emma’s level-headed—if not slightly unorthodox—support. Then again, was there anything orthodox about this situation?

“I did cause quite the level of mayhem…” Regina eventually admitted into the dusty void. Emma took that as her cue to bring herself level with Regina’s position.

“Kind of…” she said, but there was no judgment in her voice. “Can I ask what happened?” she asked, and Regina grinned.

“I don’t know if you can, Miss Swan, but you may.” Regina answered smoothly, causing Emma to nudge her with an elbow. That reminded her… A feeling of dread settled at the pit of her stomach and instead of repressing it, Regina took a deep breath, exhaled and spoke up.

“Before I tell you, though…” she turned to Emma, wanting to make sure Emma understood the full intent of her words. “Emma, let me express again how truly sorry I am for hurting you this evening. The way I behaved…” she couldn’t keep her eyes entangled with Emma’s beautiful green ones any longer and dipped her head down. “I wish I could say I never meant to hurt you—I did—but not because of you. I did it—”

“Because you figured you’d better shut this chance at happiness down before it even got started.” Emma interjected, dipping her head to catch Regina’s eyes. There was such confusion in Regina’s dark orbs that Emma involuntarily laughed. 

“Yeah, I figured it out.” Emma answered her unspoken question. Regina smiled—a smile so shy that it felt positively foreign to Regina. She could see the sentiment reflected in Emma. This was a smile young Regina had worn, before she was the Evil Queen, or maybe even before she was the Queen. A smile she smiled when her life still had the potential to end up in a good place.

“I’m happy you did, Miss…” she trailed off. Looking into green pools of compassion and fatigue, and seeing something flitting through them—a sliver of… something negative.

“What what that…?” She asked, causing Emma’s eyebrows to climb her forehead.

“Huh? What was what?” Emma replied, looking genuinely confused.

“I did something, or said something, you didn’t like.” Regina answered, discovering she liked this turn at honesty. Perhaps she was not too old to learn from her mistakes, after all. Emma’s hand came up to nervously run though her hair. 

“Yeah, that…okay, in the spirit of sharing… as much as I can appreciate a good ‘Miss Swan’ when we’re bantering about non-personal things… I kind of like it—or would like it, you know, whatever… if you would call me Emma a little more often, especially in situations like this. I mean… it’s my name and—I guess it just makes me feel like I matter to you… on a personal level I mean. Not just as someone in your orbit.” Emma ended her fumbling rant, and while Regina found Emma’s lack of skill to express herself endearing, Emma seemed frustrated with the experience. Regina did greatly dislike that her past behavior had implied to the blonde that she did not care about her. Because she did; Very much so.

The longer this evening progressed, the more Regina became aware of her feelings in general, but mostly about the people in her life—Henry, Emma, even the Charmings and the other townsfolk—as well as those about her own past actions. What she took away from them was that she had loved Daniel more than words could describe… and when he was taken away from her, her world had collapsed into itself. It had left her mad with grief. Yet, if she let herself, she could find what she had with Daniel again—top it even—with Emma. And so, Regina gathered her courage as well as her shot nerves, and closed the little space there remained between them.

“Emma,” she said pointedly, her voice intentionally soft and laced with her emotions, which ranged the gamut from nervousness and exhaustion to hope and—if she dared to admit it—love. “You matter a great deal to me.” another pause as she gathered her wit—feeling strongly that this was something that should be spoken, not just shown—“and if you can find it in your heart to give me another chance to… become closer to you, I promise I will not squander it like I did before. I call—called—you ‘Miss Swan’ because it is—was—less frightening to address you so. I felt that, by calling you by your name, you would know just how deeply I care for you.” Regina slowly brought her hand up and ran the back of her fingers softly over Emma’s cheek in an attempt to accentuate her words. Emma leaned into the touch and smiled.

“Emma?” She asked, using the woman’s name again, widening the smile on Emma’s features as well as hers. Her tone, however, caused Emma to open the eyes she had let drift close, caught up easily in the moment now her walls had been brought down through current events. Their eyes met and Regina stared into the green a moment, before she finished her question. 

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

Emma nodded happily and Regina let the hand resting on Emma’s cheek expand until she could cup the woman’s face before bridging the last divide between them, pressing her lips lightly against Emma’s in a light brush that made Emma shiver against her and caused the hairs on Regina’s arms to stand up. They had kissed before, but as she felt Emma’s hands slide gently over her sides to her back and pull her closer as their tongues met, she realized they had never kissed like this. 

Without her walls up, Regina could feel the safety Emma’s strong arms offered, could enjoy the soft hum in the back of Emma’s throat as she surrendered to Regina’s probing tongue, and marvel at the flutter of her heart as Emma’s soft hair ticked the side of her face. She could breathe in Emma, and hold her close, without fear of judgment or rejection. There was no rush, no need to bring this kiss to the next level—although she could feel her desire for the woman burn in the pit of her stomach despite the fact that she was bone tired—and most of all, she felt no need to push Emma away from her. In fact, as her free hand pulled Emma closer by her belt loop—sending the ball of light into the air to hover—she decided she could stay like this forever. She would be happy if all she was allowed to do for all eternity was kiss Emma Swan. 

They parted gently, both smiling, and Emma cleared her throat.

“That did not suck…” she said pointedly as she untangled herself enough to lay her hands on Regina’s hips and tease warm skin with even warmer fingers. 

“It did not.” Regina agreed, with the same level of humor and awe she had caught in Emma’s voice. She took a few more moments to enjoy their physical closeness and then stepped back regretfully, taking stock of the room once more. 

“I promised you an explanation about all this…” she motioned with her hand to indicate the entire house. “…but first, let me heal your shoulder. It must be hurting you.” She said and the look of surprise on Emma’s face that was her response made Regina quirk an eyebrow.

“You know, I actually forgot about that when we… kissed.” Emma said, flashing the same toothy grin her son did when he had said or done something naughty he knew he was getting away with.

“Is that so?” Regina asked, smirking, but the expression quickly fell as Emma shrugged off the leather jacket and turned around. The area was turning a sickly shade of brueish green and was once more bloody. The scrapes and gashes looked painful to Regina, who couldn’t help her hand from shooting up to cover her mouth and her eyes from tearing up. 

“I’m sorry.” She said again, and Emma reached behind her for her free hand. 

“It’s okay. I understand. Let’s not make a habit of it but… it happened. You can heal it. It’s fine.” Emma said sternly, meaning every word. “…and after that, you can magic your way through the house and bring back some semblance of order and then I am going to take you to bed—to sleep, Regina!—and we’ll talk in the morning about what happened here. If you want to; I think I can pretty much guess that you had a magical Hulk-out and ended up smashing everything to bits.” Emma saved Regina from telling the story, and Regina was thankful.

“That was, indeed, very close to what happened.” She admitted. As she hovered her hands over Emma’s shoulder and let her love for the woman in front of her power the healing spell Emma deserved, she added that she been so angry at herself, and so afraid that her outburst had caused her Emma and Henry, she had—nearly literally—exploded. Her shoulder healed, Emma turned around and shrugged the jacket back on before pulling Regina to her.

“I wish I had understood all of this—you, dating you, the way you work—a little sooner. I could have spared us both a lot of trouble.” Emma said as she kissed Regina chastely. “That said, I don’t regret anything. I’m right where I want to be.” She added, and Regina couldn’t help but melt a little. She brushed a lock of Emma’s unruly hair away and smiled down at her. 

“I should take care of the cleaning.” She said and sighed as she turned around. She wondered if she still had the magical energy to actually make good on her boast. Emma was studying her when she turned back to her. 

“I might have some magical energy left to spare?” She offered unquestioned. “I mean, the energizer bunny, I am not, but I’m sure there is a little left in me before I need to be tucked in.” Emma joked and Regina smiled genuinely, touched by Emma’s offer. She had gotten so used to doing everything on her own she forgot that others could help her—and would be willing to do so, even. 

“Thank you.” She said gratefully, taking Emma’s hand and squeezing it before gently tapping into Emma’s reserve. She let the power flow into herself and groaned at the emotion that came through the connection with it. She had performed magic with Emma’s help before, but never had felt this level of emotional connectivity with the blonde. She took the experience for what it was and didn’t question it, but she was fairly certain that Emma’s leading emotion right now was love, and that—seeing as both their defenses were down, Regina was experiencing it much sharper than she ever had. With a smile and the basis of an idea forming in her head, she focused on the task at hand and let lose a purple cloud of smoke that engulfed the entire dining room. She pictured how the room used to look, drawing on themost pleasant of memories—most of them with Henry—that had taken part right here. When she opened her eyes again, the smoke faded and the room was restored to perfection.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” Emma admitted. 

“It is quite the party trick.” Regina admitted, and reveled in the sound of Emma’s laughter. 

Before long, the entire house had been cleared up, and no one would ever know what had taken place here just a few short hours before. By this time, both women were stumbling with fatigue. It felt completely natural to walk the stairs hand-in-hand—they had been holding hands for the last forty-five minutes after all, to repair the damage to the mansion—and it was an connectivity both women greatly enjoyed. Regina was also secretly pleased when Emma didn’t hesitate to follow her into the master bedroom.

Exhausted, but with schoolgirl smiles, the two women undressed each other, and after a short discussion, decided panties were enough clothing for in bed. It was an odd experience to feel strong arms engulfing her once Regina had settled on her side of the bed. Emma pressed herself lightly against her back and kissed her shoulder, then her ear, and then pushed herself up so she could kiss Regina, who met her half way by turning her head.

“Sleep well, Emma. I… I am very happy you are here.” Regina spoke, not wanting to give Emma the impression she was anything but deliriously happy at the recent turn of events. 

“Me too.” Emma said happily, and Regina felt her snuggling into her back like no one had ever wanted to snuggle into her before. It made her heart swell three sizes, making room for all the light, hope, and love that poured into it at the current situation.

“Sleep well, Regina.” She heard Emma mumbled, and with a contented sigh, Regina slipped her own arm over Emma’s and closed her eyes, drifting off to the scent of Emma and memories of lips pressed against her own.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set to Ani Difranco's beautiful 'Sunday Morning'.

The sun woke Regina up early, as the exhausted pair had forgotten to close the curtains. It was alright, though, Regina had gotten the best sleep she had had in years and despite an undercurrent of emotional exhaustion, she was feeling better than she had in years as well. Somewhere in the night, Regina had turned around in Emma’s embrace, and Emma—whose body had taken up at least three quarters of the bed—now had an arm under Regina’s head as Regina’s leg was thrown up over Emma’s hip, her left arm draped lightly just under Emma’s bare breasts. 

Regina felt like perfection. 

She was warm, comfortable, and surrounded by Emma’s body, her scent, and the sound of her deep breathing. It seemed Emma would not let a little sunlight distract her from her sleeping. Very carefully, Regina pulled her arm away and pushed herself up so she could support her head with her right arm while pulling the blankets down over the blonde’s body, exposing her to the edge of her boyshorts. 

Emma’s beauty took her breath away. Ghosting the tips of her fingers over Emma’s perfectly toned abdomen, she became lost in the soft hairs that came to stand on edge every time her fingers passed, and the way Emma squirmed just slightly whenever she came too close to her sides. Exploring upwards, Regina grazed the underside of shapely breasts that literally made her mouth water. 

The cool morning air had pebbled Emma’s nipples, and Regina realized she felt absolutely no shame or hesitation looking upon Emma while she was in this state. She had seen Emma’s body before—sometimes with offending pieces of clothing simply pushed aside, sometimes partly undressed, and sometimes fully unclothed—but she had never seen her unguarded. It was beautiful—she was beautiful. Regina ran a finger through the valley between Emma’s breasts, tracing the digit up until she reached the cusp of the neck Regina wanted to kiss so badly she let herself.

Emma reacted slowly as Regina’s lips connected. Her head moved first into, and then away from Regina, giving her space to explore, and her arms came up to wrap around Regina in an instinctual move that brought tears to Regina’s eyes. Had love ever been this free for her? She could not think of a single instance. She doubted Emma had any precedent either.

She gave up on trying to dig up memories and kissed her way over the column of Emma’s neck to her ear and licked her earlobe before dipping back to her neck and kissing her hairline near the back of her head, well aware of the erogenous zone this was for Emma. And, indeed, the woman who was slowly waking up moaned softly, wrapping her legs around Regina’s still draped one and tried to maneuver Regina’s head in such a way that she could kiss her.

Regina happily complied, fully aware that the resistance she had to kissing had completely dissolved in the acknowledgement of her true feelings for Emma. They kissed languidly, a little sloppily due to the short span of time they had been awake, and in a way that made Regina’s toes curl. Once they broke apart, Emma smiled a dazzling smile that was infectious. Opening her eyes, Emma blinked a few times before focusing on Regina who hovered near her. 

“Good morning, beautiful…” Regina said and Emma hid her face in the crook of Regina’s arm. Regina grinned at Emma’s attempt to hide. 

“What? What is this?” she asked unworriedly, moving herself so half of Emma’s face became exposed. She wrapped her free arm around the blonde’s body and ran her fingertips lightly over the skin of Emma’s back. The woman relaxed into the touch and moaned happily. 

“You called me beautiful.” Emma admitted and Regina laughed softly. 

“That I did. You are very beautiful, after all, my dear.” She added, her head swimming at the happiness that coursed through her veins. Emma hid her face again and this time, Regina gave a full laugh.

“Oh, Emma, please do not tell me you are sensitive about your body? You, whose mother was deemed the fairest of the land; you who could have her pick of the men and women in this town?” Regina said, amusement laced with her words, but making quite sure Emma understood she meant what she was saying. Emma untangled herself a little and met her eyes. She was, indeed, blushing slightly, Regina noted.

“No, not exactly. I’m happy with the way I look—in general, anyway—but it’s been a while since anyone actually told me. A long time, actually.” She added and Regina didn’t resist the urge to press her lips to the soft lips below her for a reaffirming kiss.

“Well, Miss Swan, Emma, Sheriff,” Regina murmured, covering her bases, “...you are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of looking upon.” And she be struck down on the spot if she did not mean it. Emma didn’t hide this time and grinned.

“I think you are stunning… and sexy… and extraordinarily beautiful…” Emma complimented her in return as she ran her hand over Regina’s side with a wicked smirk.

“Thank you,” Regina said with a blush that flushed most of her upper body. If Emma was not used to compliments, what did that make her, besides deliriously happy? Regina ducked her head towards Emma and kissed her deeply, drinking in the connection that had settled between them almost effortlessly after Emma had come back to find her. Regina’s head shot up mid-kiss, causing Emma’s eyes to fly open and her mouth to snap shut.

“What…?” The blonde asked thoroughly confused.

“Why did you come back? Last night, I mean? I kicked you out and well—” Regina did the math in her head. “…you would have barely made it home before coming back. What happened?” She asked, curious now. Emma got comfortable on her back, staring at the ceiling while her hands played with the fingers of Regina’s left hand, the other hand still propped up under Regina’s head.

“I did make it home, and inside, and I was looking at myself in the mirror when everything just sort of… connected. I was so pissed at you, for fucking up our date, for throwing me out… and then I could suddenly see that you were just scared shitless, and I had made a terrible mistake not fighting for you in the first place. I let you throw up your walls—like always—and just ran. When I figured that out, I came back.” She tilted her head to the side to look at Regina. “I wanted to fight for you.” She added with a smile. Regina smiled, leaning down for a kiss as her eyes teared up at the confession. 

“You are amazing, Savior,” She expressed and pulled back in confusion when Emma suddenly cursed.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” Emma untangled herself in a hurry, falling off of the bed in search for her pants—or more accurately, her phone.

“What? What’s wrong?” Regina asked, sitting up without bothering to cover herself. She observed the blonde scampering about on the floor and liberating the electronic device from her pocket before hurriedly typing a message into it and shutting it down. With a blush and a shit-eating grin, she then stared up at Regina, who was completely clueless.

“My mother was there last night, when I came home, and I kind of told her that I was going to ‘talk some sense into my mystery date’… perhaps with fists…” Emma admitted. “…and then everything happened and I totally forgot to tell her I’m not lying date raped and dead in a ditch somewhere. She must have been worried out of her mind!” Emma said, but the amused twinkle would not budge from her eyes and Regina couldn’t help smirk somewhat evilly. 

“Well, with that business taken care of… why don’t you come back into the bed and we can spend some time not worrying about your mother’s frail state of mind?” She questioned and received a dark look from the blonde who did crawl back into bed.

“You know, you are going to have to learn to get along with Mary Margaret eventually if we want to make this work.” Emma said seriously. Regina could feel her anger bubbling up but forced the emotion into a more useful medium than revenge: talking.

“Emma, I have been trying my hardest to please Mary Margaret. What I did—then and now—is never good enough for her, and I understand her anger directed at me. I did terrible, terrible, things to her. I hurt her more than you will ever know—“ Emma tried to interfere, but Regina silenced her with a kiss Emma fell into willingly. 

“I’m not being self-defeating here, Emma, I am being honest. Your mother and I have a long and complicated history. Perhaps, one day, we will be able to talk about it like adults and there will be no shouting, and no fireballs. That day is not today, so I suggest you keep me as your mystery date a little while longer, until we can make plans for Operation Snow. For now, though, can we remove the ghost of your mother from our bedroom and enjoy the time we have until our son comes home?” Regina asked and Emma smiled at her, obviously touched by Regina’s willingness to plan for the long haul.

“Absolutely…” Emma agreed and helped Regina down onto the mattress. They kissed slowly, taking their time. Regina still shivered every time Emma’s tongue connected with hers, and moaned at every touch Emma applied to her sensitive body. Before long, Emma was positioned naked on top of her, a leg pressed softly between both of hers, and she was moving her own body gently onto Regina’s thigh. 

They moved slowly, one of Regina’s hands in Emma’s hair, making sure her enticing lips were within reach between gasps of pleasure. Their eyes remained firmly locked, parting only when one of them was overcome by the slowly building pleasure that was overtaking them both. How different this was to their previous sexual interactions, Regina mused. There was no hurry this time, and Regina’s hands on Emma’s hip caressed her more than encouraged her to move faster. Regina was lost in Emma’s eyes, her motions, and the pleasure building between them. She lost all track of time and place, melting gently with the woman on top of her, whose slick skin felt so insanely good to her. She had been building towards orgasm for what felt like hours now, and instead of forcing Emma to hurry, she kept the rhythm with gentle motions, whispering encouragements and sweet sentiments against the lips that brushed hers. How Emma was still keeping this position was beyond her. Yet, she knew Emma’s body intimately, and she could tell the other woman was as close to the edge as she was. She wished nothing more than to send her over.

“Emma…” she gasped and moaned as Emma ducked her head down to lick and suckle on the sensitive skin of her neck.

“I love you…” She heard Emma whisper in her ear and Regina was suddenly crying tears of joy. Emma righted herself, never slowing, never speeding up, just building slowly towards their peak. 

“I love you…” Regina answered when they could look at each other again, and Emma smiled her most brilliant of smiled and Regina could only marvel at the fact that she could cause this in the other woman. She gathered enough air to speak and whispered softly into the minimal space between them.

“I want to show you… how much…” 

Regina’s voice was thick with emotion. Emma didn’t question her. She let Regina slide her hand from her hair to her chest, and Regina centered herself for a quick moment before opening her heart to the other woman through the pathways their magic had forged between them. She started off with a little, not wanting to overwhelm the blonde. She gave her a bit of her love, her happiness, her arousal, and Emma groaned, almost collapsing on top of her.

“Regina…” Emma whimpered with a sob, and Regina kissed the top of her head. Emma lifted her head with difficulty, her green eyes now even darker in her passion and bottled up emotions. 

“Let me… to you…” Emma forced out, and Regina nodded, using the hand on Emma’s hip to oper a pathway between Emma and her as well, tying their magic and the emotions that were transmitted with them into a circle. She gasped at the intensity of Emma’s feelings as they overwhelmed her senses and her body. She shared in Emma’s arousal, mirrored her love. She gave them both more, losing control of her own desires, and feeling Emma’s motions against her become more forceful and irregular. They were feeding off of each other, kissing deeply as Regina finally opened the floodgates and let them both be overcome in the orgasm that reverberated between them as if they were a singular entity. It lasted forever, she felt, and there were no words to describe the sensation.

Afterwards, Emma lay cradled against her body, enjoying Regina’s hand as it combed through her hair. They talked softly, about any subject that came to mind. Some of it was pleasant, most of it wasn’t. Dark topics were addressed between kisses, and with touches that were fueled by magically conducted emotion. They talked until Henry’s arrival was imminent and they had to hurry to shower and find some semblance of protection to shield their tender souls and hearts from the mundane.

The promised apple pie was in the oven just before Henry arrived, and he was ecstatic to find both his moms waiting for him. His presence normalized the charged atmosphere between them and made it easier to remember that there was a world out there, filled with a different kind of wonder than the touch of the other could produce. A world they would both be joining soon. 

They ate the pie together and Henry was delighted by the whipped cream Regina whipped up. He didn’t ask about last night; he realized that whatever it was, it was done and over with and the women sitting at the dinner table with him were better off than they had ever been before. 

Emma went home to appease her mother and lessen suspicion, but returned around midnight. Regina hadn’t slept a wink, missing Emma’s arms around her and missing the blonde, period. When her cell phone went off—which she had thankfully put to vibrate—she grinned at the display and jumped out of bed when Emma told her she was outside. She rushed down the stairs in her nightdress, and opened the door, pulling Emma inside quickly, shutting the door and kissing her deeply, expressing the depth with which she had missed her. Emma kissed her back with the same desperation and while sleep came several hours later, neither women minded as they settled in each other’s embrace.

Regina turned around, feeling Emma—who was already deeply asleep after making far more frantic love to her than this morning—settle against her back. The brunette smiled into the darkness and closed her eyes as well. For the second time in many, many, years, Regina was not afraid of the nightmares that usually haunted her. Emma’s strong grip on her drove away all the dark thoughts, and all her fears. Regina was happy—truly happy—and she slept soundly in Emma’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and your feedback. It has been a wonderful ride with you all. I hope you have enjoyed reading this fic as much as I have enjoyed writing it; these women are amazing!


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